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Behind Grey Walls

Summary:
The asylum, she knew, would be her end. She had seen it, but her father signed the dotted line and now she was stuck behind grey walls. Alice's story.


Notes:
I wanted to delve in to what Alice didn't know. The story is based on her time spent at the asylum.


1. Chapter 1: The Asylum

Rating 0/5   Word Count 1958   Review this Chapter

Chapter 01
Biloxi , Mississippi

Happy; it used to be the only word that could describe Mary Alice Brandon. Recently, however, the best word to describe her was freak. No one believed her; they all thought she was crazy.

Mary Alice claimed to have premonitions, visions of the future. Of course no one would ever believe that something supernatural actually existed. Mary Alice had thought the same thing most of her life, until the first time it happened.

She saved her little sister, Cynthia, from a terrible accident, before it even happened. She had tried to explain it to her mother, but she didn’t want to hear it, then she tried her father, and he was even more stubborn than her mother.

She had seen another vision now, she was being held—against her will—in an asylum. As if she were some crazy person. She wasn’t crazy, she refused to believe that. She saw these things. It was real.

She was busy now, packing a bag full of clothes, she would runaway from here, away from the parents that didn’t believe her and told her sister that she was crazy. She wasn’t crazy.

She wasn’t.

She had been cycled through her share of therapists’ offices and hospitals. She had seen ever doctor from psychologist to specialist in the Biloxi area. Her parents swore that there was something wrong with her. Maybe she was hallucinating or had an illness that made her delusional.

She was sick of the doctors and sick of them not believing her, she was not going to allow for anyone else to stick her with a needle or take a pint of her blood to analyze. They would all come up with the same conclusion, there was nothing physically wrong with her; she was normal.

As normal as a girl could get who could see the future.

“Mary Alice,” A voice called from down the hall.

The dark haired girl looked up to her closed door. She had to act quickly. She shoved her last few things in to her bag and glanced to the open window behind her. She slung her bag over her shoulder and grabbed the low black pumps next to her bare feet.

Quickly, she was to the window. She tossed her shoes to the grass below and hauled herself over the window sill and on to the awaiting terrace that was strategically placed below her window.

She was halfway down when she heard her door open in her room, she looked up as if she had been caught and let out a low breath, “Mary Alice?” Her mother’s voice showed distress not seeing her eldest daughter in her room. “Mary Alice Brandon, where are you?”

Large brown eyes looked up as her mother’s voice got louder. She saw her mother now, hanging half out of the window, “Mary Alice, what on God’s Earth are you doing?”

“I am not going to that place, mother.”

Mary Alice jumped from the terrace, close enough to the ground now, and grabbed her shoes. She looked up to see her mother’s face distort to pure shock. No one had said a word about the asylum around Mary Alice.

“Mary Alice, it is for your own good!” Her mother nearly shrieked as Mary Alice backed away from the house. “Frank!” She called her husband’s name. “Frank, go outside and snatch your daughter, she’s trying to run away…” She heard her mother’s footsteps, loud, in the house.

The front door opened and she moved to run away but she couldn’t, her legs wouldn’t let her move. She watched as her father’s 5’11 frame came towards her. She grabbed the strap on her bag and started to move away from him.

“I’m not going to that place, father.” She refused shaking her head. “I’m not crazy!”

Frank grabbed his daughter quickly and held her in place, “This is for your own good, Alice…” He murmured to her. Frank was the only person who dared call her the name she much preferred. Her mother refused to call her just Alice, and her sister wouldn’t dare disobey her mother.

“No,” She shook her head vigorously. “I will not go, they will only torture me there…” She pursed her lips together. “Kill me, even.”

“Alice, we have to get this demon out of you.”

“Demon?” Mary Alice stared at her father, large brown eyes narrowing with fear, with anger. “There is no demon inside of me!” She refused to believe that this gift she had was evil.

Frank couldn’t say anything more, he held her firmly in her spot as her mother fetched the keys to the car. He couldn’t meet her gaze, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to go through with this action if he stared in to those smoldering brown eyes.

A large gust of wind hit them, unnatural for such a calm spring day. It rustled the trees around them; it tousled Mary Alice’s long, ink-black hair along with its rhythmic motions.

“Frank, let us get a move on…” Margaret Brandon’s voice rang from the front door where she was toting her purse and holding the hand of her younger sister, Cynthia.

“I’m sorry Alice,” He whispered before dragging her to the car and forcing her in to the back seat.

Mary Alice argued the entire way to the daunting, gothic looking asylum. She already felt less sane as she stepped out of the family vehicle. She leaned against the car, not wanting to go near the building.

“I am not going in there,” Mary Alice refused.

She closed her eyes for a moment too long. Like a shockwave, the premonition took over her body, make her open her eyes and stare straight ahead. She saw herself, with short hair, messy and tangled, fighting off a creature that was strong, too strong. All she could hear were her own screams.

She felt the wetness on her cheeks and shook her head, “I can’t go in there, I will die…” She stated confidently. “You don’t hate me that much that you will sign my death certificate now, do you mother?” She stared at her mother.

“How do you know you will die, Mary Alice?” Her mother grabbed her wrist and forced her to walk along side her. “Another one of your visions?” She asked her voice mocking.

“Yes, in fact, it was.” Mary Alice wrenched her arm out of her mother’s grasp. “I will not let you put me in this place, they will cut off all my hair and some creature will kill me!” She shouted angrily.

“Mary Alice, you are overreacting…” Frank put a hand on her shoulder and Mary Alice turned around swiftly.

“I am not overreacting, father.” She pursed her lips together. “They will torture me; do you know what they do in these places?” She asked. “They will drug me, and they will use ‘shock’ therapy to help rid me of my demons… there are no demons!” She continued to argue.

“Sh—shock therapy?” Cynthia stuttered from behind her parents. “They won’t hurt Mary Alice, will they father?”

Frank looked down at the ground and then back up to meet his eldest daughter’s eyes, “Alice,”

Mary Alice watched as her sister’s face fell, “Tell me that they aren’t going to hurt Mary Alice!” Cynthia’s face was turning red, her eyes watering as she looked up at her sister, her role model, her best friend.

“Cynthia, now is not the time—”

Cynthia stopped listening to her mother and ran to her older sister, wrapping her arms securely around her tiny waist and holding her as close as she possibly could.

“Don’t go Mary Alice, don’t!” She pleaded, her tears falling freely from her eyes now.

Mary Alice felt her heart breaking as she held on to her sister tightly, she looked at her, they were pretty much at eye level, Cynthia—no doubt—was going to be taller than Mary Alice’s much smaller frame, one day.

“It’s ok Cynthia, I promise…” Mary Alice whispered hugging her through her own tears, knowing that it was a lie.

She was going to die behind these walls. Something or someone was going to hurt her. She had seen it, just as she had seen many things in the past.

“I will take her in, you stay in the car with Cynthia, I don’t want to make this any more difficult than it needs to be…” Frank stated looking to his wife.

Margaret ripped Cynthia from her older sister’s grasp and pulled her to the vehicle, unwillingly. Mary Alice watched in horror as her father grasped her elbow and pulled her in to the double doors of the asylum.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” Mary Alice choked out. “I can’t….” She whispered harshly.

“Nothing is going to happen to you here, Alice; you will be perfectly fine…” Frank stated as calmly as possible.

He pulled her to the front desk and eyed the woman who sat behind it. She had sandy blonde hair that was pinned back in a low bun, and a white nurse’s outfit. She looked up with a faint smile on her lips.

“How may I help you?” She questioned, her smile never faltering.

“I’m here to check in my daughter, I called yesterday.” Frank cleared his throat, but kept a firm grip on Mary Alice’s arm so she could not flee for the door.

“This is absolutely absurd,” Mary Alice grunted through clenched teeth. “I am not crazy, and you know it!”

“Let us not have this conversation now, Alice…” Her father forced a smile as the woman looked through her paperwork. “Surname is Brandon,” He instructed.

The woman found what she was looking for; she flipped through several pages and handed the folder and a pen to Frank Brandon. He signed where instructed, not daring to glance at the stubborn girl that he was holding in to place.

“Don’t sign the papers, father…” Mary Alice’s voice cracked. “Let me go and I’ll run away. You won’t have to be burdened with me any longer, just let me go, don’t let me die in this hell hole…”

“Alice, you know I can’t do that,” He signed his name for the last time.

“How can you do this?” She felt the tears falling from her eyes more freely now.

She couldn’t talk anymore; the sobs took over her body. She slowly slipped out of her father’s grip and to the floor, her skirt falling around her elegantly, as she slumped against the desk.

Her father froze and stared down at her, was he doing the right thing? Could he really walk away from his eldest daughter in her time of weakness? The doors near the front desk opened and a man with a wheelchair came to help Mary Alice back to her room.

“I’m going to die here,” She shouted to him, through her tears. He could feel his heart breaking as he stepped back from her. “Is that what you want?”

He couldn’t speak. He watched as the man lifted her up gracefully and sat her in the chair, but she was a dead weight. She wouldn’t move, she refused to look at him. Her perfect make-up was now ancient history. Her face was red and glistening with tears.

He stepped back to the door, “I’m so sorry, Alice…” He murmured before leaving.